


The three Inseparables

by Flauschvieh



Category: The Musketeers (2014)
Genre: Bantering, Brotherhood, Double Anal Penetration, First Timers, Love Triangle, M/M, Male Slash, OT3, Ridiculous bets and I-dare-you games, Threesome - M/M/M, friendship+, vicious attraction
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-30
Updated: 2014-05-18
Packaged: 2018-01-12 17:21:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,913
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1193397
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Flauschvieh/pseuds/Flauschvieh
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It all started with a ridiculous bet. Or rather with an awkward game of I-dare-you, in which all three of them get involved.. one way or the other; Porthos, clearly not amused that Aramis puts them all in danger with his misplaced affection towards the Queen and a lighthearted confession by Aramis 'The Lover' leads to a delicate bet that changes their relationship completely, thought it initially was intended as a joke - it turnes out something more intimate..</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prelude - Fun and Games

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is slow-build fic in three parts. Its Portamis in the second one and resolves to OT3 in the last chapter - so you know what you're in for
> 
> *devious cackling*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Takes place right after The Musketeers 1x02: Sleight of Hand, mild spoilers if you haven't watched it yet.  
> Dedicated to the fandom and the Musketeer OT3!  
> I owe JEAikman a great deal for the patient betareading despite coughing her lungs out and getting carried away in the smut – so not sorry for the latter tho -

**“Are you not aware that we are never seen one without the others,**

**and that we are called among the Musketeers and the Guards, at court and in the city,**

**Athos, Porthos, and Aramis, or the Three Inseparables?”**

**\- Alexandre Dumas (The three Musketeers)**

 

* * *

_It all started with a ridiculous bet. Or rather with an awkward game of I-dare-you, in which all three of them get involved.. one way or the other._

Athos could remember that fateful evening in retrospect, when they sat in the tavern, the three of them together after their day's duty. They had captured Vadim, mostly to young d’Artagnans credit, which should prove him capable of becoming a Musketeer any time in the near future and it had them all very proud... and generous in their drinking.

So while d’Artagnan was looked after by Constance in his lodging, being nursed back to health, he was absent the very evening when Porthos began picking on Aramis for his less than subtle advances towards Queen Anne.

Protecting the King and Queen with their own lives was one thing, it was asked and demanded of them - rolling around with the King's wife on the ground for longer than strictly necessary and under the eyes of many, to protect her from harm, was a complete different issue. Not to mention the sequel to that event, when the Queen had personally thanked Aramis for his exceptional bravery in putting his life before her own and had rewarded him with a token of appreciation.

Porthos could do nothing but gape, with more than one suspicious eye, to when their faces had almost touched during the process.

Admittedly, if Aramis were to keep this sort of thing up, he would put them all in danger with his thoughtless course of actions. It was true the Queen of France was a beauty - But for anyone except her King, she was completely off limits.

For the majority of the conversation now, it was Aramis laughing and drinking carelessly, while he explained himself to his friends with a twinkle in his eye,, Porthos glooming at him and pounding the table on a regular basis to emphasise his arguments, and Athos in the third chair, just being the discreet slightly-drunk, though he had consumed more wine than both the others put together, leaning back and giving a sigh at the quarrel going on between his brothers-in-arms..

His eyes were distant and veiled in shadow under the brim of his hat, while he watched Aramis with an odd expression. He would probably jump in the conversation, if things turned for the worse- but until then, it seemed that nothing could part him from the glass of wine in his hand. And, more than that, he was too damn well used to his best friend's banter.

“Gentlemen”, he tried wearily, for the third time now to have a word in between and hopefully move the subject of the conversation to something else, but he was cut short by Aramis returning Porthos’ stare playfully.

“What is the problem, Porthos? Her Majesty was merely thanking me for my loyal services in the time of danger.”  
Porthos snorted, his eyes searching Athos for backup. “What services we talking here? Don’t make me repeat myself: you were giving her the  _stare_  and we all know, what you had in mind.. or still have, mate. Speaking about intentions!”

With a loud thud, his fist hit the table again, making their mugs jump a few inches and Athos flinch under a growing headache.

  
Aramis narrowed his eyes. “I have no idea what you’re accusing me of here. I haven’t done anything.”  
He took his drink, taking a sip and avoiding the penetrating gaze that Athos had levelled in his direction.

“Yet”, Porthos huffed back, taking a good sip from his mug as well, before he ran the back of his hand over his mouth. “Asked you merely to set you sights a little lower, damn it. Should't be too much to ask. Why the Queen of all people?”

Aramis just gave him smirk, apparently he was enjyoing the whole thing, and the more Porthos tried to reason him out of the matter, the more appeal it gained for Aramis. It was a game, really, and sadly not one that involved cards and offered Porthos an opportunity to draw the ace from his sleeve to win the trick.

Aramis toyed with the tip of his mustache, twirling it thoughtfully between fingers, as he was watching Porthos closely.

Athos saw right through it, Aramis wasn’t that stupid. He would never willingly put all their reputations at stake for a tumble in the sheets, but he liked to play games and tease and be charming all the same, and Porthos happened to be the perfect sparring partner - once his brain was addled with alcohol and rage.

“You have to admit she's one of the most beautiful women in Paris."

'And one of the least we should ever lay a finger on', Athos added mentally, shaking his head and letting Aramis continue with his explanation.

"I’m sorry Porthos, I cannot control to whom I'm attracted to - unlike you, you brute, who takes the first pick in the near brothel-"

here he paused, because Porthos was literally up his chair a few inches, ready to punch Aramis in the face if he'd continue this lane. Though, he was soon shushed by Athos who shook his head with a tutting sound.

"Gentlemen, please... nobody gets judged here for their choices in love affairs." Except for the Queen, that was.

Aramis winked at Athos, before he looked to Porthos again who looked anything but happy, though Athos' words tugged at the corner of his lips for a second. 

"I told you", Aramis shugged "I’m the romantic hero type. I just  _love_  Love, can't help it, or the fact that's Her Majesty in that matter….”

Porthos just glared at him. Ready to stuff the Romeo-crap up his handsome ass at some point. In his eyes Aramis was being a selfish prick, disregarding the warnings of his friends.

“...but everyone could have fallen for me. I don’t see why I have to apologize for this", Aramis closed his words. Taking a sip rather pointedly before he put the mug back.

And this was where Athos stepped in. Mainly because Porthos was still trying to comprehend what Aramis had just told them and opening his mouth without actually producing words.

Athos raised his eyebrow warily. He resisted a disbelieving snort, though his attention was caught by Aramis’ words.

“You mean you would literally bed anyone, if they were attracted to you?”

Aramis paused in his intention to straightened the feather on his hat, looking slightly thoughtful about his next answer to that. There was a moment of awkward silence as they all understood, Aramis was about to make a confession - one Athos had suspected for a quite while now and had felt rather certain of, as he had witnessed Aramis checking their newest member - young d’Artagnan - out the other day.

“If I like them too, yes.” Aramis just shrugged and then nodded as he took his mug, holding it in front of his face for a while. His eyes were set down; in fact, he was hiding a smirk.

Porthos made a funny noise, something similar to an inaudible gasp or a huff, shooting a look to Athos that was asking for assistance once again.

But Athos seemed more than a bit amused by their newest discovery and decided to play along a bit, face set skillfully straight as he pointed to a random pick of people in the crowded tavern.

“Okay then... Her?”

“Oh yes.”

“Him?”

“Well... maybe.”

“Okay.. “ Athos let his gaze travel and eventually nodded to one mid-aged woman by the counter, cleary one of the fancy ladies around, who was just trying to convince a rough looking bloke to spend the night with her. The excessive make up and the scruffy strands of hair speaking their very own language..

  
“What about her?”

“Oh good God, no thank you, I’m not one for venal love”, Aramis laughed, exchanging a playful look with Athos, who smirked at him, eyes shining with amusement. They were on the same page now… which left poor Porthos still in some kind of a mid-shock moment.

And Porthos needed confirmation, it was his way of figuring things out and sorting them in his head. Like a jump into cold water if you initially were to frightened to put even a toe in - with no going back, even if it hurt sometime.

“Him?” now it was Porthos turn to try.

They all fell silent.

Aramis didn’t respond for a while, all of them relapsing into akward silence - Porthos was gesturing to Athos.

The former joke had turned into something slightly uncomfortable, it made Athos lower his gaze to their drinks on the table and left Aramis still in lack of words. It seemed like Porthos has got both of them now, turning the table skillfully.

Though, eventually it was also Porthos who saved them the moment. For now it was his turn to grin widely and white-toothed. He shifted in his chair and unintentionally kicked a heavy boot under their table that didn't belong to him; it was Athos'.

The growl following made Porthos' leg retreat but he did not so much as give Athos a look, his eyes were fixed on Aramis instead.. “Okay smart guy, let’s make this into something fun. I dare you, Romeo, to try and take  _me_  to bed. Wanna see what all this fuss is about. And if you fail to seduce me, I won’t let you use any of this as an excuse next time.”

Athos looked up fairly alarmed, an unspoken warning in the air and his hand clutched the armory piece of clothing on his tight.. but Aramis seemed rather cool with Porthos’ provoking attempt.

“Okay big man, since your appearance isn't as ugly as your manners, I’m game." Aramis played the flirting game with bravado, if he was at all uneasy about this, he covered it well with a smile that lit his whole face and made Athos exhale slowly.

"Do you want it right here on that table, rough and passionate or do you prefer me ushering you to your chambers where I can bed you like a gentleman?” Aramis chuckled and Porthos barked a laugh.

All Athos could do, was sigh. If being asked, he was pretty certain his drunk mind wasn’t playing tricks on him as he found Porthos holding Aramis’ piercing stare with the fairest bit of approval.

Eventually Porthos huffed. “Call me old fashioned but I think I prefer the latter. Though if the gentleman doesn’t mind, your lodging is right ‘round the corner and mine is quite in a state. So…”

“Got the message”, Aramis humed in a flirtatious way, that made Athos gulp down the rest of his drink. Aramis had his knee pressed casually to the inner side of Porthos’ thigh under the table - making the Musketeer grunt in surprise - and Athos slamming down his mug onto the table.

“Right I take it, this is the time for my retreat then. Good night gentlemen and don’t take the trouble to report to me later. What you two do in your spare time is your own business.”

Athos' face had lost the amused touch from moments ago and he looked strangely bemused and solemn as he pushed his chair back with an unpleasant screech. The leader of the trio was quite a character and often left his two best comrades in wonder about what was on his mind. Though, in this moment he seemed to them not only uncomfortable with the issue but also strangely concerned...

Aramis looked his friend up and down, as the other stood, hat carefully lowered to shade his face. “You don’t feel like joining, Athos? Surely I could teach both of you a thing or two…”

And before Porhos knew it, he had sputtered out “You’re gonna miss me winning over that bet.” He threw Aramis a sideways look.  _Or rather lose it_  - there clearly was that opportunity, Porthos was quite aware of the fact.

Aramis, as pesky as he tended to be with his cocky attitude about him being the romantic hero around the court, had a point - he was quite the handsome bastard, probably every man’s choice for a first timer when they ever felt like trying... stuff out. And most of all, he had made Porthos curious. He was intrigued.

And that press against his thigh under the table didn’t really help either.

Athos halted and looked back down on them with the kind of impenetrable look that would have everyone else back off - except for his two closest friends. They had become like brothers in all but blood over the last five years in duty as the King's musketeers, inseparable in a bond of trust, which would never be easily broken by any romance with a female. It was a silent agreement they had made. 

This was an agreement, though, which had never crossed any of their lips.

And there was something, that withheld Athos. Maybe the locket around his neck..  his eyes strangely blank as shook his head. “I am flattered by your invitation, gentlemen. But don’t bother about me. I've had too much alcohol... It’s fine, just… enjoy yourselves.”

Athos put his hat in place, eyes fixed on the exit and made for the door. Leaving Aramis shrugging and Porthos crane his neck to watch him leave the room until Aramis nudged him with his knee again.

"Shall we then?"

They surely would need some extra drinks this evening.


	2. Whatever tickles your fancy  or : Two is one missing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Portamis in this chapter, to put it simple. Things get handsy.  
> Attraction is a vicious thing... all three of them will eventually come to learn that.

"You go first."

"No, after you please." Aramis insisted, grinning.

"Right, just quit holding the damn door, I'm not doing that ladies first thing with you, especially not with you trying to prove a point - I won't let you win.” Porthos complained with a glare

Aramis rose an eyebrow at that."Oh I am not. Not my intention in the slightest, I merely like to be polite."

Porthos huffed and finally stepped out of the tavern door first, leading the way. Aramis followed the friend with a slight smirk.

"Polite my backside, quit that rubbish, it's making me anxious."

Aramis indicated a shrug. "You said you wanted me to court you. That's how it usually goes when I pick somebody up there in the tavern. You know.. like after sharing a few pints and some quality time, having a nice chat.. laughing, having the mandatory deep look into each other's eyes... it's all about romance, Porthos."

When the addressed just blankly stared at him, Aramis sighed melodramatically. "Every effort of romance is lost on you, mon ami."

To this, Porthos barked a laugh. "You done yet with the whining? This is a game, no more no less and if we gonna do that... like, you know.. we do it like men."

He waved a hand dismissively. "No fussing 'bout flowers, no walks in the moonlight, just .. show me what you've got!"

Porthos was dumbstruck when Aramis suddenly burst out laughing in the middle of the streets, drawing some wary and curious looks from people to them. "Can you wait with this or do I have to walk home with my breeches pulled down to my ankles to lure you?"

Porthos shoved him- hard. Making a low growling sound down his throat. This was about to turn out the stupidest idea they've ever had a bet on.

In the end, this pretty much summed up the whole awkward march from the tavern over to Aramis's quarters.

 

* * *

 

Aramis had made the best of it, when he had moved into his lodging in this small house right above the Seine river. Like for everyone of the king's guards it had to be practical and mostly easy to clean. But Aramis had added several touches that made the flat more into something being worthy of called  _home_ \- rather than a mere soldier's quarters.

Sadly right now Porthos had nothing but a weary eye for the fact that Aramis actually owned a candle stand and had thoughtfully placed a small rug neatly in front of the bed to add to the atmosphere. For Porthos it didn't make a difference - in fact he was rather more impressed by the fact the other had no dirty clothing scaterred around the room. That was something Porthos was actually envious of.

"Right, here we are", Aramis said, closing the door behind Porthos - leaving the friend standing in them middle of the room rather awkwardly  "Want a drink or already had enough?"

"Gimme", Porthos grunted. Any cheap liquor would have done now to wash the awkward soberness aside which came with the matter, obviously.

Aramis smiled and disappeared into the small kitchen part connected to his chambers, rummaging through his stocks in the cupboard.  While he left Porthos to himself, the man began inspecting the room faintly curious about his friends’ belongings.

Aramis had all sorts of stuff laying around, for decoration purposes Porthos assumed - or rather strongly hoped.  He picked a vial with a clear fluid in it up from the nightstand and eyed it warily, only to put it back quickly when Aramis came back to the room. Instead now he took the glass of wine which Aramis offered him and stepped to a cupboard near the table... fairly aware that Aramis was watching his every move.

Porthos chugged the whole glass in a few sips, slumping it down on the board and then picked up an interesting looking feather lying on the stand instead as his attention was caught by the colourful pattern.  "What the hell you've got that for?", Porthos slurred, clearly not so sober but not too drunk yet.

"It's a peacock's feather", Aramis explained patiently. "They roam everywhere round the king's garden, casually dropping those everywhere."

"Right, and you picked them up for...?" Porthos demanded, but Aramis had just decided to play open and square with him.

"For pleasure purposes. They make for a delightful tickle on the right spots." He laughed. "Like you would know."

Porthos snorted, letting the feather drop with almost disgust. "Told you, no bric-a-brac!"

"Yes I know, won't need any of that..."

Suddenly, Aramis' voice sounded faintly closer to Porthos' ears as moments before, and before the man could react he felt Aramis pressing closely into him with the lenght of his body. He had lost the hat - presumably somewhere round the kitchen - and also the leather jacket, standing in front of Porthos with an open necklined shirt, the hem hold loosely with few lacing.

"Bugger", was all Porthos could muster before his mouth was sealed with the other's lips as Aramis claimed it for a kiss.

Intially were was no reaction or willingness to play along from Porthos, who was still so shocked by the approach that he seemed to be in a kind of stupor. But then Aramis started to use his skills, making Porthos groan in frustration, surprise and pleasure. Somehow he had opened his mouth and Aramis was licking into it, tracing a wet line round his with teeth and duelling his tongue. Porthos gave a gasp in an impulse to snort a laugh and draw back, but he didn't.

Aramis had layed his arms around the other's waist while one knee  was just casually producing pressure on Portho's groin. The man growled out aloud. Playing him was rather easy - either that, or Aramis was in fact just as skilled he had bragged to be, the bastard.

Porthos decided, if he was doomed to fall for the other and lose their little bet, he wanted at least uphold some control over the _way_ they were playing.  
His hands ran over Aramis's shoulders, down his arms, clutching into the thin greyed fabric. Aramis wasn't as broad as he himself was, but Aramis made up for it by being lean and well-proportioned in muscle.

Not to mention, he had a fine arse. Porthos grabbed right into the firm buttocks, making Aramis hum in approval.

Aramis' eyes narrowed, lid closing down a bit as he leaned his head sideways a bit more. deepening the kiss. It left Porthos panting. His fingers twitched, clawing into the other's skin for a moment, making Aramis release a deep breath right into their kiss - which turned into a surprised gasp, as Porthos yanked him towards the bed and pushing him down the matress.

"Well there, seems like someone is up for a little game", Aramis said with a smug expression on his handsome face, making Porthos wish to punch right into it, or rather rip off his clothes and just have his way with him, either way it would leave him with him no chance to form another word.

Aramis kept hovering on the edge of the beds, looking up to Porthos, biding for the other to catch him in another hungry kiss. Aramis let him, his fingers fumbling nimbly with the laces of Portho's jacket. The lot of it; jacket, belts, gloves and a hat soon landed on a neglected heap on the floor.

Porthos kicked his boots off and found Aramis really not fast enough with getting even, so he pulled on the other's shoes, tossing them straight across the room, not giving a damn about the loud thud they made when they landed.

Porthos leaned over Aramis again, letting him work on his belt now, while they shared kisses, bites to the lips and neck and jawline. He could feel the pressure against the fabric down his crotch becoming more and more uncomfortable.. Aramis with his eyes slightly closed, head leaned back, exposing a slender neck was just all too delicious to watch...

Finally the damn breeches were the last piece of clothing to slide down Porthos' knees, where he kicked them off rather carelessly if not annyoed yet. He watched Aramis watching him.. his gaze lingering on his manhood - which in fact was nothing he'd have to hide in any comparision. 

"Not bad..", Aramis murmured, taking the sight in cleary intrigued "I’ll grant you that, at least."

Porthos huffed "Flattery won't give you any extra points. Off with that!" And with that referring to Aramis' loosely hanging shirt and the remaining breeches Porthos let himself sink down on the other, making the bed creak in protest and Aramis give a growling hum in approval as his fingers dug into Porthos' back, feeling the muscles move.

Aramis, much to Porthos' grudge even made the stripping into some form of display. Lasciviously he wiggled himself out of his breeches and tugged the shirt over his head, showing a heaving chest that gave him away. The man wasn't any less nervous and thrilled with what was to come to happen between the two of them.

Porthos leaned in to Aramis, once he was naked,  not really wasting a second on looking, instead what he did was grinding and pressing against him. The mix of sweet wine and sharp musk in the air triggered something inside Porthos which he wasn't even aware existed.  Somehow, the sensation of laying with a man did not feel as alien as he had thought it would, like he was used to the thought, in a way.

Before he could trail off into that stream of thoughts, Porthos leaned into Aramis instead and shifted so most of his weight was on top of him. The sensation of bare skin on skin made them both gasp and groan and Porthos didn't even try to conceal his variety of sounds. Turned out he was in fact pretty vocal and made no attempt to hide it from the other...

Aramis made a sharp hissing sound as Porthos' knee came in touch with his groin painfully at some point of eager writhing and thrusting against each other. Aramis hushed a "Careful, mate", before winking at the other and giving a playful jerk of his hips in return.

"Sorry, sorry", Porthos hummed, not actually used to share a bed with someone who was so sensitive to an incautious knee pressed to the wrong spot.

After a while, when Porthos' movements and thrusting against him became more frantic, Aramis decided they were ready for some display of his qualities. He had made a promise of some sort, and he was most willingly to keep it. So he turned them, with a baffled looking Porthos, as he was position down the mattress now, Aramis hovering over him.

The younger slid down on his friend, nibbling and licking a wet path and a moment later Porthos threw his head back, howling in a pleasant surprise. Aramis' mouth was wet and playful and too damn skilled on him, licking from root to head and taking the whole length in. It almost was too much for Porthos, even more with the slurping sounds coming from down there, which he was more than sure Aramis was doing on purpose..

"Fuck", Porthos breathed and squinted his eyes shut, then he pushed himself up on this elbows so he could have a better view, and the sight of Aramis’ head, bobbing up and down on his groin, his dark hair tousled and messy tickling his inner thighs made Porthos bite his lower lip. "Damn, fuck..."

"Yes?" Aramis' head rocked up "Got something to say?" The reply he got was incoherent swearing and Aramis grinned, looking down at his work heavy-lidded.. hand still cupped thoroughly around Porthos' cock. "You sure are big.."

He licked his lips in anticipation.

"Don't you DARE go stopping now!", Porthos finally managed and was rewarded with a quick but teasing lick to the plaything in Aramis' hand. He felt the other's neatly trimmed moustache tickled his inner thigh and he inhaled audibly and shakily.

Damn, he wanted the mouth on him back, badly. It made Porthos writhe in anticipation.

"So", Aramis continued playfully, giving Porthos sheer hell with waiting for the next touch.

"Why does it feel so good?" Aramis shifted his hand and cupped Porthos' balls with a gentle grip. While he lowered his mouth again, next words were merely a breath to Portho's anticipating cock. "I'm giving you a clue: Just the gentleman can positively know what the other gentleman would like.. and how he'd like it."

And when Porthos felt the hot mouth on him again, he bucked his hips up, thrusting into the inviting wet heat.

It didn't take long, in fact it was over ridiculously fast and peaked in a hearty and very throaty roar coming from Porthos. Aramis didn't draw  back, instead humming in approvel and still moving his lips skillfully around the throbbing length. Porthos rocked his head back, fingers clawed into the sheets beneath them as he spilled into the other's mouth. "Holy mother and Queen of France!"

Aramis' chuckle was more palable than really making a sound. With a triumphant smile, the younger man appeared from beneath the mattress and apparently did not give a damn about the wet stream running down the corner of his mouth, as he lazily stroked himself.  "What now? I thought you wanted to keep her out this messy affair."

Porthos grunted loudly, weakly and he tried to give Aramis a kick over the head with his heel but fortunately missed his target. "Oh shut up you son of a praying mantis - what are you doing?!"

Apparently, Aramis was not done yet, it didn't need the throbbing cock between his legs for evidence - the look on the other man's face was unambiguous, playful with lust.

He had something in mind, which he wanted to try next, and what Porthos actually had yet discovered earlier this evening....

"Would you kindly pass me the vial?" Aramis asked, as he sat back on his heels, finally running the back of his hand over his mouth, sweeping the last remains of his first achievement.

Porthos gaped at him, as it was slowly dawning on him.. what Aramis had in mind.

When no help came, Aramis sighed and streched out of fetch the small bottle himself, uncorking it with ease.  Porthos watched him making his fingers slick with the scented oil, an intrusive smell of roses hit his nose..  one which would never ever leave Porthos alone for the time after this night..

Eventually Aramis' slick fingers came back to Porthos' testicles and moved further down, just a bit - their eyes locking - then Porthos shifted unwillingly. "You're  _not_  going to put that in me now, will ya?"

Porthos' eyes wide and voice having an alarmed ring to it.  Aramis was still up to playing his tricks on him, probably with the intentions to put him over the edge a second time. So her snorted:  "What do you think I am, a dairy co-"

"Shhh!", Aramis chuckled, hesistant but carefully moving on. "Relax, won't do anything you don't like. Although you're probably missing out ..."

Not helping. Not helping at all.

"... Just from the outside!" Porthos insisted, finally giving in to his fate, his chest heaving in thrill.

"As the gentleman wishes.." Aramis licked his lips and concentrated on the movement of his fingers, using knuckles to produce easy friction and teasing pressure. His own cock was pressed against the mattress beneath him, begging for release any time soon, but Aramis was a gentleman and always counted his lover and companion in bed's interest first. He would get his release later.

The next thing Porthos remembered was a wave of heat and lust washing over him. He could not even locate it accurately, there was just this raging tumoil building up in his guts, waking his member slowly but constantly for a second time... which was technically something he had never achieved himself in all his days of pleasing himself. Well damn that...

"Urgh!" He gruffed, peeking down to watch Aramis' work, like he had missed to do so the first time. He felt the slight pressure against him and in him, the probing - and knew Aramis was cheating, but he found that he didn’t quite mind that at the moment, instead letting the other push in another finger and fuck him carefully.

He stifled a grunt as Aramis was reaching for a certain spot repeatedly inside of him. Most sensitive shit Porthos had ever felt before. It worked the trick, next time the man glanced down, he faced his own member almost fully erect and stroking neatly against Aramis' bristly cheek.

With the growing erection, Porthos' mind went creative and craving in need..   with a low growl he pushed himself up his elbows, reaching for the other and before Aramis knew it, he was pushed backwards and down the mattress. "That's enough, lemme have a bit of fun too, for holy christ's sake."

Aramis was startled first, but then huffed a laugh that was almost sounding relieved and happy to oblige. He eyes had found to Porthos' swelling cock more than once now, licking his lips but the other had something different in mind.

First he would repay Aramis's skillfull fingerwork, and then...

"Can I fuck you?" Porthos voice was very low and stiffled near Aramis ear, his full weight pressing the other into the mattress and making them both gasp. But eventually Aramis nodded, turning around to his stomach in a silent agreement and letting Porthos postion himself between his legs with the vial in hand.

To be fair, Aramis was not a stranger to playing this role. He was no expert, and it had definitely been a long time, but he knew how to relax around Porthos' awkwardly probing fingers to save himself the most pain.

The other was impatient and honestly, Aramis had had enough heat built up in his groin for craving a release, one way or the other. He got himself ready, braced up a little on this knees so he could reach between his flat stomach and the mattress, laying a firm hand around his cock.

And as Porthos pushed inside him, he rocked backwards, literally taking him with a long groan.

Porthos' thrusts were heavy and very erratic and Aramis had to guide him to an even slower and more even pace. Aramis generally preferred making love to simply fucking but he doubted Porthos was in any state now, to get the hang of his request.. But they were good, it didn't take long despite the lack of skill.

Aramis came, biting his lip and throwing his head back, ready to let Porthos' ride his second orgasm out as he tensed around the other, letting him groan.

What then happened was awkward and Porthos wasn't even aware of his mistake, till Aramis literally froze in his movements, just holding still. On the peak of his climax, Porthos had gasped out a name, which wasn't in fact Aramis'.

It was Athos'.

 

* * *

 

The slumped down the mattress and came to lay in a messy heap with tangled limbs and breathing heavily. Aramis grinned and then huffed a laugh, turning his head to Porthos, who wasn't exactly bright red in the face because of his natural tanned skin, but Aramis knew his signs of embarrassement.

"What now you're thinking of another while fucking me? That's not really gentleman like you know." Aramis face was lit with amusement, he wasn't holding a grudge against his friend in any perspective. Was merely teasing him, but Porthos seemed to have startled himself with the  involuntary outcry.

"Damn, would you shut up, at least I wasn't thinking 'bout him while you were sucking me off."

For a moment they lay there in comfortable silence. Each of them following their own trail of thoughts... the fact that it was a casual thing which came with no responsibilities at all felt strangle relieving.

Porthos had to admit, he didn't regret any of it. But still there was this issue...

After a while, when he got his breath back, Aramis shifted and pushed himself on one elbow, giving Porthos the most emphatic look he could muster.

"So what we are going to do about the little hint, mon ami? I think there is need for a word of clearance, or more so, some actions following... "

Porthos looked at him expectantly to name it, because he surely would not.

"I think you like Athos. Did this really never occur to you, Porthos?"

The taller man huffed, leaning back on the bed and watching Aramis with steadfast indifference in his look.

"Actually it has - for the last two and a half year or so...."

 

* * *

 

It was still very early morning when Porthos returned to his quarters. They would be send on an expediton the following day so he had decided it was best to let both of them have a bed to themselves and get some rest. And not only to prepare for the trip.

Porthos' steps faltered when he reached the first floor which harbored Athos' lodgings. Hesistating, he threw the last door on the right a pensive look. He tried to be most silent with his boots stomping the wooden planks as he finally continued upstairs to his own chambers.

He had not the faintest idea that inside his lodging Athos was laying wake on his bed, facing the ceiling and following the distant footsteps on the roof with a stony face .. brows furrowed into a frown. He would recognize the other's stride in a lot of people, like he could with Aramis and sometimes would be able to tell if it was d'Artagnan.

Maybe Athos had just been unable to find sleep - maybe he had counted the hours until he was sure Porthos had returned from Aramis' lodging...

' _Oh well, you should probably do something about it, Porthos",_  was Aramis' proposal still lingering in Porthos' thoughts .

 _'Nah,_   _this is in vain",_ were Porthos' words in reply. _"There is actually someone Athos likes, and it's not me I guess_.'

 _'Is that so?_   _Strange, I thought after the incident with his wife five years ago he would never fall for anyone again..._ '

The three of them had been brothers and best friends for so long... maybe it was just messed up feelings which they mistook for something else. But then again..  Porthos knew when he had to distinguish. He knew feelings, a variety of them and he wasn't falling for people as easily as Aramis made them believe he was.

There was one thing about warm and hearty feelings; and then there was fascination, the longing to touch... an intense stare casually pointing towards attraction. Yes, in a way it had gone wrong in the most messed up kind of ways, for the three of them by now.

_'I think Athos likes you, Aramis.'_

__


	3. Third time lucky

It was then that Athos, Porthos and Aramis found themselves in a situation that could not be otherwise described as a ménage à trois.

It was tricky.

And most of all betraying their understanding of trust.

It was something, that was brooding beneath light words and services of honour and they were not quite able to put a finger on it.

_At this time._

* * *

It was the next day when Athos, Porthos, Aramis and a ridiculously vigorous d'Artagnan met at the garrison to the morning report. Treville had summed them to discuss matters on an assignment and to hand them a letter of instructions.

  
So to state it bluntly, there never had been a more awkward atmosphere between the three men than on this morning.

Aramis found himself watching Athos warily out of the corner of his eyes; Porthos shifting fidgety from one leg to the other between his two friends, waiting for Treville to finish giving his instructions, and Athos just seemed brooding in his own corner of a troubled mind, not really noting any of them.

' _What a pleasurable journey we're going to have then'_  , Aramis mused and watched Athos' proud back as the other recived their instruction letter and as he led the formal bow to their captain for all of them to follow.

The task was no hardship, so much they could tell. They were asked to visit one of their most valued tradesmen in Les Mans and make sure the realm was still in favour of the powerful patron and his constant supplies. They had not recieved a word from the monsieur for some time past and the king was anxious over the presumption of treason.

It was a task as good as any other to stick them together for the next days to come. Maybe it would be for the best, leaving Paris for a while, to loosen their tongues and also the knots in their chests. 

The four friends rode at midday and left the city through the southern gate, the young Gascon boy leading the troop at their front and dragging three rather uncommunicative musketeers behind him.

Athos was following close behind d'Artagnan, the brim of his hat drawn carfully over his face. It hadn't slipped his notice that Aramis wasn't that secure in his saddle, not like as he usually was; just ever so slightly shifting on occasions such as a ride on too solid ground and his horse doing leaps over roots and small rocks on the way...  and it played dirty tricks with Athos' mind. 

He had thought the whole thing intended as a joke, but then again he knew his two brothers too well to misread the obvious signs. Athos would know when it was just talking - or when there would be action following those words. Aramis had always been the one bragging generously about his liasons, whenever they turned into more than a sweet nightcap.

And Athos felt that nagging sensation in his intestines welling up again, just like the other day.  

It was ridiculous to name it betrayal.

Everything which happened outside their royal duty was a personal matter to every man himself. Still Athos felt surly in the wrongest way imaginable. His mind was clouded and he longed for a bottle of wine first things when they arrived at Les Mans.

Aramis meanwhile didn't catch any of it. He was too busy pointing to Athos' back with his eyes or a nod of his head, getting a indecisive snort from Porthos in return.

He would have done better to keep his damned mouth shut, Porthos wallowed in his thoughts. If this was to ruin everything between them, he would surely never forgive himself for not simply having tried his luck with  one of the ladies in the streets of Paris. There was plenty of them to go around.

But no lady he knew had the gruff and silent character as the man in the saddle before him. Not that it was something to generally tickles one's fancies much, but as long as Porthos had known Athos, he had felt this strong sensation of care for the other with every fibre of his body.

To make sure he wasn't drowning in his mind-fucked state nor the wine, usually it was Porthos who would drag his friend home from the tavern when Aramis had prefered some company of a female instead.

Now it was obvious that this female companion perhaps counted as one of the main reasons Athos drunk himself into a stupor on a regular basis.

It was stupid. Porthos felt way too helpless most of the time, not even able to hold a grudge against Aramis but he didn't know how to help Athos hanging heavily on his shoulder, mourning his empty bottle, before he would drop it to the ground and let himself be dragged out the tavern.

Porthos at least was enjoying that closeness between them from the tavern to the door of Athos' lodging. The other a warm presence pressed next to him as he clung.

If it was the least he could do, to look after the friend, Porthos did it willingly.

 

* * *

When the day reached its ending they stopped by at an inn, with the intention to reach Les Mans the next day early. 

Athos paid for their rooms and the laid table, at which they all sat down hungrily then. It wasn't his own money but Treville covering their expenses for the trip.

The benches in the room were narrow  and small and they had to eat elbow to elbow, when Athos felt someone's knee touching his own under the table.

Looking up vaguely while taking a sip from his mug of ale he, saw Porthos grinning full-heartedly and chewing on his piece of bread. There was a conversation going on their table but Athos had mostly excluded himself from his brother's words.

Now he watched Porthos with a frown, who was sitting across from him and tried to decipher his body language. Normally he was keen and vigilant when it came to this affair, but then again, however, this was Porthos; he was almost always in high spirits... which was why Athos appreciated his company over everyone elses. Porthos, for all he knew, would not be shooed away by his friend's sullen bearing - a fact that Athos' secretly valued more than he could show. Porthos was a rock a man could rely on, always, and like it was by nature, unimpressed even by the most unsettled weather crashing to it's side.

Supporting, not giving way.

Though in this moment for some reason Porthos' presence and his loud voice clouded Athos' mind even further.

Athos shifted and relocated his legs under the table belatedly, breaking the contact.

Though, on second thought, Porthos had not actually been grinning or even talking to Aramis over the table, but to him. 

Athos blinked, taking another sip. It was hard enough to endure that closeless to Aramis beside him on that bench, who was talking to d'Artagnan beside Porthos.

At least it seemed now that the spirits of their little round had lifted, eventually, and Athos thought that maybe it was an one-off thing after all and he probably should not let himself dwell on it too much... though Aramis' thigh was warm on his side, making it hard to follow that trail of thought. 

 

* * *

They excused themselves rather early to their rooms. And Athos missed to take one bottle of wine along, which he regreted not even ten minutes later.

With a curse under his breath the man got up from his bed again and stepped into the dark hallway. 

Athos stood before Porthos' door a moment later, knuckles flexed to knock, when he heared voices from inside the room. Porthos wasn't alone then, Aramis was with him.

Athos thought about making a retreat again, getting a botte of wine from the kitchen, but suddenly there was this sensation of impotent fury washing over him, the feeling of being left out again, which was stupid, he knew. But still, whatever this was about,  a friendly drink or more than fun and games, it was not only in Athos' interest to clear the air between them at last.

Without so much as knocking Athos entered the room, drawing Porthos' and Aramis' look to him in an instant.

Aramis was sitting on his bed, Porthos on the stool by the small table and they were sharing a bottle of wine and a round of cards, apparently. Athos felt regret the moment he reconsidered his own actions. He was about to draw the door back shut without even a word, when Aramis stood.

Athos was so much as aware of the fact that, the moment he had blundered into the room, his friend's conversation had died down. And Athos did not know what to make of that realisation. His stance was rigid and wavering at the same time, like a silent excuse to spin on his heels any moment and flee the room again.

But the moment was over swiftly when Aramis blinked, unwittingly reaching for the bottle and gesturing to Athos in the door, to keep his hands occupied. "Oh it's you, we thought you're in your room, resting."

Porthos grinned to them both before his gaze came to lay on Athos vaguely.  "With a bottle of your own." He eyed him with interest, his thumb stroking along the brim of his mug before the man gulped down the last bit of it.

They both fell silent when Athos' face just darkened and he closed the door behind him, but from the inside of the room, making his way to the remaining empty stool beside the bedtable.

Athos had decided they needed to talk about this. Even if he loathed the thought. If there was something more between his two brothers now than friendship - he had to be careful to not unwittingly overstep a line… whatever that line would be. He didn't dare giving a thought to it  _yet._

So far there never had been many secrets between them - except for the past, which Athos still kept to himself carefully.. because he didn't want to burden any of them. For this was his issue and his alone, while this... Athos felt involved in a nonsensical kind of way that needed some words spoken loudly. 

"I think we need to talk, gentlemen.."

Athos looked them both up and down reluctantly, Aramis a heartbeat longer than Porthos, while he was given a warm glance by the latter. Porthos huffed as he lifted his shoulders good-naturedly. "What do you want to know? We're not planning to turn this into a guessing game. Ask right away, Athos."

Aramis nodded agreeing. "Gentlemen should always play with open cards... that is, with everyone that joins the gambling table."

Athos huffed as he finally turned to Aramis. It seemed belated for a moment like he wasn't sure and for a moment his gaze, meant to accuse, was lost in the dark brown of Aramis' eyes, before Athos was even aware he was staring. He seemed so out of his head, which was highly unusal for the otherwisely stoic man.

"So this  _is_ a game to you? Any additional rules or extensions I should know of?", Athos asked under his breath. It came out in a long stretched blow.

Aramis hold his friend's look, straight and open. So this was it, they were talking business now..  

Well Aramis would not lie to them. There was no need, he found.

"There could be, at least if it's me talking about my point on the matter. I'm not actually aversed to the idea to be honest... " He smiled to Porthos, an acknowledgement and a request to the friend and Porthos grunted, letting his eyes drop to the table, but did nothing to object, so Aramis continued:

"A man needs a bit of fun sometimes, Athos, to relieve tension and get a clear head. Best served with no side effects, I say; no woman to look after, no responsibilites... just the understanding."

Aramis leaned back in his chair, letting his words sink in, making sure they all - and mostly Athos - were on the same page here. "I like to make silent agreements."

Athos if nothing else looked shattered by the confession, his head was spinning and a moment later, he stood, nodding to himself as if to sort his thoughts. Right.. so this was it.

"Well then, I understand... You don't have to say another word, I wasn't meaning to interrupt anything..." 

A heartbeat later he was almost out the door, like the first time there in the tavern - when Aramis was faster, suddenly standing in the door and before his friend, one arm pushed against the frame and building a barrier for Athos to leave the room. 

The look he earned himself with that from Athos was indecipherable.

"We want you to stay", Aramis said softly. All of a sudden his voice not that certain as it had sounded just moments ago. "We.. both want to share with you, Athos."

He took a breath and threw Porthos a look, who still remained on his seat as if he were petrified and even seemed to have held his breath in anticipation of this moment. Ah yes there  _was_ something that was able to throw the rock apparently. A soft but insistent rub to it's side, showing affection... if it endured, eventually it would leave a dent as clear as a mark.  

"We think you belong."

The older man froze. If at any time Porthos and Aramis had seen Athos actually lose his composure - this was it. In a way the similarity to Athos' reaction for when he was given a compliment by a mistress was striking. In a way, it was Athos' achilles heel. Aramis sighed, removed his hand carefully from the wooden frame and laid fingers on Athos' chin instead, caressing the bristly cheek with the back of his hand while Athos just stared at him.

But Aramis could read in the dark eyes what he so desperately needed to know, to not find himself pressed against the wall with a knife to his throat any other moment: besides the confusion was a glimpse of subtle longing, pupils dilating slowly - not narrowed in dismay. It was enough for him to replace his hand with his face and his lips ghosted along Athos' distinctive jaw line.

The musk was intriguing, it was different from Porthos but not unappealing.

Aramis heard the other suck in a sharp breath, before he closed the last inch between their lips and kissed Athos in an all-or-nothing turn.

It was to all their surprise - or mostly relief - when suddenly life came back into Athos, in the blink of an eye and he grabbed Aramis by the collar, urging him against the doorframe, gentle but almost desperate like he saw this his only chance before Aramis would draw back the last moment and laugh at him.  But his lips caught the other's into a searing kiss that told more than his words possibly ever could.

It was silent in the room, apart from the muffled sounds of pleasure coming from the both men.. and then the low screech of a stool pushed backwards and Porthos' silent steps as he joined up to his friends and came to stand closely behind Athos.

Aramis was aware of their brother's presence and parted himself from Athos, the other watching him heavy-lidded and a hint wary. Maybe still dreading that all of this was a farce and they would both laugh in his face the next moment. Athos had learned affection and romance never played out well for him, and caused only pain and suffering, he had turned his back to the very thought of being involved into something that would require him to open up, not only physically, but also emotionally to another person.

But instead of betraying Athos' weak hopes in this moment Aramis said:

"You probably never guess it but our dear Porthos here has a certain liking on someone you might know..."

This time it took Athos merely a single second to comprehend; he just let himself fall into the firm but gentle embrace as Porthos put his arms around the other man from behind and squeezed gentle but firmly.

Athos tilted his head slightly to the side, as Porthos hungrily nibbled at his neck as if this was the most natural thing in the world to do... and in some way it seemed rather the case; They were so close, the three of them, in fact always had been - and they would choose life and death together and there was not a single part of their bodies which they wouldn't trust their brothers with..

Athos understood it was a matter of mentally letting himself fall backwards into someone's arms without looking - to trust them completely. It probably was the most difficult thing to be asked of him after Milady..  It was intimate, it might change the way they viewed each other or on the other hand, maybe it would not. Surely it would deepen the connection he felt to these two men. And for the main part: he did not want to be left behind.

Athos was depended on Porthos and Aramis for they had caught him in times of need. So he trusted them even now...

Aramis found the sight of Athos and Porthos inspiring.. he would have so very much liked to watch and take it as an acknowledgement to him pulling the strings,  but Athos wasn't that patient; not anymore - he drew the third man closer again, arms around his waist and nibbling at his neck, taking the other man's distinctive fragrance in.

Aramis had always been a great lover of various scents and even fancyful pendants and gems, like he loved the fine arts and Athos is glad he can finally  _touch_ the insightful spirit.

They can hear Porthos groan behind them and it sends bolts through Athos' and Aramis' bodies alike. They part, only reluctantly and crush down onto the mattress of Aramis' bed which would have to suffice for the moment, despite its narrow frame-build.

Athos' mind is blown. He just knows he wants this, which is enough at this moment. For all he knows, he wants Aramis to be closer to him than in the moments in which they probably have the most intimacy allowed; when Aramis would treat to his friend's wounds.  Learned hands and soft touches, soothing, calming.. but now attracting heat deep inside.

Porthos is something, Athos actually never found himself able to give the right name to the feeling in his chest when he recognized the other's gaze on him, at evenings in the tavern or the moment before he would leave him on his doorstep to sober up in his room and sleep the night in his bed - and not crouched down over the table in a pub.

Aramis, who intially had been understanding himself as the go-between in the play is overwelmed by his own need for just  _this._ And Porthos... Porthos is just unbelieveably happy he can have them, both of them, even farouche Athos and feel him, touch him - without resistance. And for once the touch not motivated by concern but passion.

The moment that barrier seemed to have broken down in Athos' mind, he turned out the passionate and considerate lover who cherishs the one he beds.  It's humble but whole-hearted. Even though he lacks practice.. it's been too long for Athos, but the trust and long-bound understanding that has grown between them makes it easy to just read expressions and push the right levers without asking.

They stripped each other of their clothing, accompanied by heavy grunts and the occasional gasp - they are men after all and there's no woman to impress here with manners - letting belts and shirts and breeches carelessly drop to the ground in front of the bed and the moment Aramis was bare chested, Athos just sat back and  _watched._

He took great pleasure in just devouring visualy. Taking every inch of the fine curves of muscle in, every scar and stain, before he would allow hands follow the trail of his eyes, worshipping the body he'd found so appealing for a long time.. without granting himself the thought.

His touches are careful and soft depite his caloused fingers and Aramis shivered. He could literally feel the appreciation streaming from Athos - and it throws him, not expecting this soulful approach. He had lain with women who had admired him for his handsomeness and his manhood (and his skillful mouth not only when it comes to words) but Athos.. he just  _gives_  without asking or expecting anything in return. And it's so dedicated it makes Aramis stumble in his beliefs if he even deserved such one-sided devotion.

Maybe they - he - would eventually get there sometime..

Porthos let them have a minute, watching Athos through heavy-lidded eyes, licking and biting down at his lip in thrilled cheerfulness. He knows this is an important moment to Athos and the will to see the other joyful is stronger than the urge for his own touches.

And Athos didn't forget about him.

Eventually the oldest turned, slung one arm around the broad neck and bent over for a kiss, letting Porthos put his hands on his bare shoulder blades again. It was a warm and pleasant weight, giving a firm massage.

But Porthos soon learned that Athos rather liked being touched whole-heartedly and  _rough_ even. It seemed he just craved the sure touch and needed it to feel alive and aware of the situation..  and so Porthos willingly snapped after the other man's lip, growling, while moving one hand in his neck and pulling at the dark hair.

Athos gave a low and approving growl back, obeying the pull and tilting his head back as he watched Aramis from the corner of his eyes, a soft smirk tugging at his lips.

From Porthos came a chuckle before he pressed a hard kiss to the already swollen lips and then let his grip loosen. He too was luring Aramis with his eyes now, to take part in their little game.

Aramis was not keen to hide that he was indeed enjoying to be served from two sides simultaneously. Greedy and generous with love and affection like he had always been. He smiled to Athos over his shoulder and ran his fingertips over Porthos' chest before him.

While Athos had positioned himself behind the lean figure, nibbling and kissing his shoulder and the curve of his neck, while Porthos licked into Aramis' mouth - a faint memory, mingled with Athos' taste. It was excellent.

Porthos groaned, palming himself through his underpants impatiently and as he felt Aramis' and also Athos' eyes mischievously watching over the other's shoulder he barked a hearty laugh. "Damn these start getting uncomfortable. I'd say: off with it!"

Oh, and Athos and Aramis agreed, completely.

One moment later had them naked and slumping down to the mattress again. It was a messy heap of stroking, licking, palming, pressing and rubbing against each other, hot flesh and skin on skin. Athos almost always kept his eyes closed during the time, just concentrating on the sensations of touching, while Aramis liked to taste his lovers.

He licked over Athos chest, along the neck and tickled Athos around the collarbone when he did the same there.

Porthos chuckled, throaty with lust.

His hand had found a way between Athos' legs and was giving a few lazy strokes to his cock that made the other ease up a bit and soon made his head tilt backwards, his lips pressed to a tight line.

Athos, who was still hesitant, his eyes grazing his friend's faces in question seemed to find his answer as he finally returned the firm grip on Aramis and experimentically ran his fingerstips over the throbbing head and along his shaft.

Athos' reward was a sharp hiss as Aramis tangled a hand into each of his lovers' hairline, making a complete mess out of their hairdo whilst clawing into their scalps.

"Gentlemen.. I need one of you to fuck me later, if you won't object.."

Athos' reaction was a glance through narrowed lids. He did not say a word but snapped after Aramis' shoulder, while his grip on the other's manhood tightened.

"How about you earn it like last time", Porthos growled playfully, actually winking to each of them as he got a smirk from Aramis in return.

"You're probably right. What fine gentleman am I, I haven't greeted Athos in our midst properly I guess.. "

The next moment, Athos found himself pushed back to the mattress, barely holding himself upright on his hands, while Aramis was devotedly sucking his cock.

Athos gritted his teeth and panted - the first really audible loud coming from him. And gasping he fell back to his elbows.

Porthos decided to join in on them and traded places with Aramis occasionally, so they could each relax their throats and pleasure Athos with all they had.. which in the end, did not seem enough, no matter how hard they tried.

Athos was a stoic and completely self-contained character. And apparently he had not have enough wine this evening to let his self-awareness falter. Although, Athos had fallen remarkably silent beneath them, literally writhing in the sheets and his fingers clawed into the linen.

It was hard for him to let go of his control completely, his face a grimace of pleasure and pain alike as his lovers watched the struggle in silent awe.

Porthos was sincerely awkward with it. To some extend he was doubting his abilities as a lover. More so as he considered himself everything but an expert with pleasing another man. Though the mere sight of Athos arching up against them made his cock twich almost painfully hard... it was a lie that  _this_ had not been a picture of his imagination in some lone nights.

Luckily Aramis beside him seemed eager to rise to the challenge and he nudged his friend, infecting him with his devotion to try and make it to the best outcome they could do for all three of them.

"Maybe we would like to try something different", Aramis almost purred when he drew back from Athos' needing cock, leaking with precum for the longest time now. In his eyes, Athos stamina was a blessing of which they could make  _oh so good_  use ...

"What do you suggest?" Porthos' words were a rasp breath against Athos' chest, as he looked up from leaning over the other. Bristly kisses placed everywhere along Athos' heaving ribcage.

Both of them watched Aramis fetch a small vial of oil out of his bag - of course he had brought it along. And Porthos groaned, only halfway annoyed by the faint memory of the ros-y smell. Though, mostly turned on by the simple idea.

Aramis huddled back against Athos' side, crouched down elegantly beside him on the bed, mouth very close to his ear. "If you would be doing me the pleasure..."

His hand was toying with the small vial, already heating it up with the warmth of his hand; as he let it slip between Athos' crooked fingers.

It needed no further words. In the next intake of a breath Athos had pushed himself up the mattress and turned himself and Aramis in the messed-up sheets, cupping his lover's face to kiss him passionately while letting himself slowly slide on top of him.

The firm press of their bodies against each other sent jolts through their limbs and straight to the groin. Athos' hand closed solemnly around the vial.

Aramis just winked to him, eyes clouded with want.

Porthos was watching the two thrilled and blind to anything else. His hand around his own cock now and groping in slow circling movements. He smiled as Athos bedded Aramis and didn't miss the chance to offer him a pillow for his head in a considerate gesture  -  but his breath hitched in his throat, as Aramis shoved it right under his backside instead, lifting up his hips and smirking to both of them.

Athos' hands were slightly shaking as he spilled the oil into the palm of his hand - and on Porthos, as the other moved over to join; he had to repay a favor after all.

And when the first probing fingers touched Aramis, dipping into the delicate curve of his ass he threw his head back, eyes squeezed shut with pleasure.   _"Justo..allí"*_

Encouraged, a second finger joined soon, it didn't matter so much whose it were. Also, the secure hands holding him around his hips made Aramis hum in approval, when he was streched open with more then three fingers of a calloused hand.  _"Ah.. esto.. me gusta."*_[ **  
**](http://dix.osola.com/index.php?opt=&trans=1&search=as%ED+me+gusta)

Aramis was a playful and appreciative lover. He bit his lip, cursing softly in spanish and rocking his hips up in their direction; an invitation.

Then while Porthos did nothing as to gently hold Aramis down, until Aramis reached and yanked the other him into a fierce kiss , Athos gave himself a few slow strokes, wetting and preparing himself, eyes drawn to Aramis and fixed on his body...

He watched the kiss and finally pushed inside Aramis in one faltering stroke, until he was buried down to the balls and felt Aramis clench around him while he moaned out, his back bent and arms reaching for him.

Athos let himself sink on top of Aramis, pushing further in, his hands beside Aramis' dark curls clutching the sheets and keeping his weight up like this. As he began to move carefully inside the other his thrusts soon became more passionate; and Aramis did nothing to conceal his pleassure, moaning loudly and drawing muffled gasps from Athos.

Aramis turned out quite the talkative wallower, he kept uttering words in french, spanish and latin alike, most of them surely not permitted to the ears of a minor but Athos' passion took fuel to it and he thrusted into his lover in long and demanding stroked now, fucking him carefully into the mattress. Though he still was more regardful in his tact than Porthos. It was just what Aramis liked when he was taken by a man.

And he showed him.

When Athos thrusted in in a fluent stroke, Aramis bucked his hips up at the same time - it seemed to trigger a certain spot and made Aramis cry out in pleasure; and took Athos' breath.

Athos' breath was a raw panting by now; between deep intakes they kissed and bit down on lips, jawline and Athos nestled his face into the dark curls, nibbling Aramis earlobe, drawing another sweet curse from him.

Athos, so it seemed could go on forever in this steady pace, like he had displayed before with the wet and hots mouths on him.. maybe he could even escort Aramis through a second climax following his sure first, but suddenly there was a warm and pleasantly heavy weight behind him and pressing against him.

Athos froze in his movements for the moment when he felt Porthos' fingers tracing down on him and settling on his buttocks, his body pressed closely to the lengh of his back. Porthos was kneeling behind him, his lap enclosed around Athos' arse and he felt Porthos' cock rubbing against his backside, requesting, demanding .. tempting.

"Relax..", Athos heard Portthos whisper in his ear. "I got this."

Though meant to hush him,  rough desire and want made the words into a slurr.

Athos panted and leaned back, pushing himself upright as good as he could, without losing the connection to Aramis, until he leaned completely against Porthos firm front. Aramis was not eager to let him go so easily and wrapped his legs around them both, with a knowing smirk which jumped from Athos further to Porthos above his shoulder.

".. Do it", Athos breathed out, his eyes falling shut as he felt Porthos' oil slick fingers already in place between his legs and pressing vaguely. When the finger entered him, Athos sucked in a sharp breath and beside this, did not move until the next came. Porthos had his breath hold as well, Athos could feel it and he tried to realx around the strong hand. The pain from the sudden and unfamiliar penetration subsided only slowly in waves, but in some way it added to his lust in just the right way..  Pain and want shot right to his groin, making his cock more erect.

An endless moment passed, before Porthos kissed the curve of Athos' neck, gentle.. then suddenly bit down on his shoulder and Athos threw his head back as Porthos pushed inside in one go. He was big.. he and Aramis had seen it and the memory alone played vicious tricks to Athos' mind.

It hurt at first, but the impulse and the feeling of being streched and filled went right to Athos' own cock again, making him twitch inside Aramis and the man groaned, fire blazing up in his eye as he understood.

Once he was fully inside Athos, Porthos gasped against Athos neck, his arms slung around the warm chest before him and he let Athos sink down again a few inches before he started moving. His thrusts were now giving the rhythm for all three.

It was good that Porthos set the pace, as after a few moment Athos felt himself incoherent as to move by himself, he just let Porthos push into him and let himself sink into Aramis in the same fluent stroke. Porthos noticed Athos would take it rougher than Aramis and even demand it, ignoring most of the pain and dwelling on the sensation.

It made Porthos frantic. Soon he all but slammed into the tight heat around him, drawing strangled gasping sounds from Athos which mingled with Aramis' deliberate moans and inch by inch they sunk further down the mattress. In return Aramis drew them close, only in a clouded corner of his mind actually taking in that Athos was still supporting himself and now also Porthos to not fully crush him beneath and it made Aramis slip an affectionate smile.

Somehow in the course of action his legs landed tossed over Athos' shoulder playfully, and there was a hand around his cock dragging the last bit of self-constraint from him. Aramis came first, with a loud outcry in spanish, arching his back again and spilling against Athos' chest. Porthos was close behind, for he had been watching Athos' working Aramis' cock with distracted and nimble fingers -

and that was enough; he spilled deep inside Athos' with a hearty growl, pressing close, hot and sweaty to his back and catching Athos' head on his shoulder the moment their lover finally came at last, with the tight clench around his cock and Porthos hot and wet throbbing inside him..

They fell apart, a messy bundle of sweat-sticky limbs and musk and cum, and crashed down to the arching bed beside Aramis, who shot a high laugh the moment he had his breath back. "Gentlemen, this.. I have no words."

Athos beside him laid completely still, with his eyes closed and listening to his own hammering heartbeat, waiting for it to eventually subside, and when he opened his eyes slowly, there was Porthos putting an arm over both of them, fumbling for the covers clumsily; not to cover them but to clean the worst mess.

It made Athos smile softly and he kissed Porthos and then Aramis lazily and open mouthed....

 ~

 _It was then that the triangle resolved itself into a circle. A circle of brotherhood and love and devotion in which they all just fit into place - as if there had never been any other way_.

fin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *right there  
> *i'm enjoying this/ I like this
> 
> Thanks to junhinotori for the spanish crash course ;)


	4. Epilogue

After this night, everything seems to be turning back to normal. They drink, they ride, they laugh and fight in battles back to back and hips forming a silent line of trust.  
But it's the occasional hand on the other's bicep, an arm wound around their waist to give reassurance. Or just some fingers clad in a leather glove, playfully fiddle for the light grasp on an arse. The first one is to say _I'm here,_ the latter maybe more standing for _I need you_ in a colourful and quite literal meaning, but it's still a language that they share with none else _,_ one that  is different and tells so much more than words - or the glances they share.

And when there's no one around in the garrison at night, in the amory or the barracks, Athos, Porthos and Aramis share slight and sloppy kisses. A Musketeer pressed to the wall by another and fingers fumbling into clothing, digits clawing into messed up hair or holding on to their hats like in an attempt to maintain dignity.

Usually, after a point the hat will be dropping down to the floor, though. 

Their different types of characters play nicely into the mix that is them; Nobody is holding back or has to bend out of shape.. and it is what makes the heart grow fonder.

There is Porthos, with the heart carried on his sleeve. He doesn't have to say - Athos and Aramis usually just know when Porthos needs them. He is the most passionate in a way, he's pure and needy but also giving everything he's got and he's the one with the strongest empathie. Aramis would call him easy to please, with a winking eye.

Whenever the tallest in their midst is gruff and moody, they will know a way to cheer him up effectively - because Porthos... he loves the fun, the drinks and good company.

And he has said so himself: he has got the best with them.

  
Athos is like a cat, he would come to them whenever he feels like it. When he has the need for company and a longing to touch and be touched. For Porthos and Aramis it's aways kind of a guessing game; they can never tell when Athos will join them in the nights; but he is coming with increasing regularity. They just have to learn stop asking.

Even after he's been staying the nights out and away, probably brooding and clinging to habits of old; eventually Athos finds his way back and will come to share with them -  let himself fall deep into the warm and clenching embraces. And Porthos and Aramis make it their task to show him he is welcome. Always.  
Athos is some kind of a loner and values his independency, he did as their friend and he will continue so as their lover.

Its accepted as well as Aramis never-dying love for women and the soft flourish of their long skirts.

At nights, occasionally, when he comes to join Porthos and Athos, reeking of cheap and pungent perfume, which isn't his own scent, they would drag him to the bathtube. And then pulling on long limbs and fighthing a laughing and toused-haired Aramis into the basin with a splash, but following and falling into the water close behind. 

In the end, there will be no real improvement to the smell.. its just another kind of fragrant now, heady from sweat and musk and a touch of the soap they are using in the regiment. And for all Athos and Porthos can tell, Aramis likes to let himself fall once in a while and be the one receiving for a change; because his mistresses usually don't find the courage to top. To give Aramis what he needs; its what his brothers are there for. 

They have a distinctive rap on the door of their lodgings.

It goes two knocks short and one long - changing from knuckle to a light scratch of nails which dragges out the last sound and indicates, it's one of them. Usually it's Athos who comes to use the sign like most of the times.  Athos uses it when he finds the company of empty wine bottles and the silence in his room alone to intimidating to bear. 

And besides that, the sign has come in handy since young d'Artagnan never knocks. He's always forgetting it and it made the three of them painfully aware to always lock the door.

Though, there is this certain glint in the eyes of Aramis whenever they mention d'Artagnan in the context of intimacy and sharing - and Athos and Porthos suspect that probably, sometime they will have to expand their little family of choice and teach d'Artagnan a thing or two, hoping he won't make for the nearest exit screaming in horror (and with this breeches pulled down to his knees).

 


End file.
